


Advice

by magneticdice



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1694045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magneticdice/pseuds/magneticdice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Ian’s birthday‒the first since he and Mickey have been an official couple‒and Mickey has no idea what to get him, so everyone (the other Gallagher siblings, Kev/Vee and Mandy) gives him advice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stitchandrepair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stitchandrepair/gifts).



> This is a birthday fic for Billie, because who doesn’t love birthdays??

The Gallaghers were all sitting around the living room on the various chairs and sofas when Ian and Mickey walked in. They were twenty minutes late, but no one seemed to give a shit, since they were greeted with smiles all around. It still made Mickey feel weird to be welcomed so openly into the family. He’d only come out a couple of months ago, and it was still going to take some time for him to get used to it‒to adjust to the acceptance the Gallaghers radiated.

“ _Well_?” Debbie asked expectantly. “Where is it?”

Mickey pulled a memory stick out of his pocket and tossed it over to the little redhead, who passed it over to Carl in turn, who got on his knees in front of the Xbox and popped it into the console.

Mickey had gotten a some nerdy loser who still owed him money to download every episode of Breaking Bad and load it up onto the USB stick for him as soon as the series had ended. When he’d overheard Carl begging Fiona to let him watch the show, Mickey had offered to bring it with him to their next family movie night.

He saw the opening on the couch where Carl had been sitting and plopped down into it, earning himself a scowl from the little sociopath. He grinned back at Carl. “Shouldn’t’a left it open then, loser,” he teased. Ian tapped Debbie on the shoulder and she reluctantly moved over, allowing the redhead to sit next to his boyfriend while Carl navigated the menu to get to the first episode.

Mickey used his elbow to get Ian’s attention, then motioned to the armchair Fiona was sitting on, with a drowsy Liam on her lap. “You sure it’s okay for him to watch this?” he asked in a hushed voice.

“You mean, should our baby brother who overdosed on coke a few months ago be allowed to watch a show about cooking meth?” Lip clarified, having overheard Mickey’s question. He finally looked up from the textbook he’d been pouring into and smirked at Mickey. “Yeah, he should be fine. Not like meth’s anything new to this family…”

“What does that mean?” Mickey asked Ian, not really wanting to continue conversing with Lip when he was being such a dick.

“Just that our grandma tried to make a meth lab in the basement once,” Debbie answered for Ian. “It didn’t work out so well…”

“Everything blew up! It was _so cool_!” Carl added to Debbie’s explanation.

Mickey rolled his eyes at the kid’s obvious enthusiasm for chaos, but the show was starting, so he didn’t have time to ask more questions. Carl turned the lights off before sitting on the floor in front of Debbie’s feet, and when Ian put his arm around Mickey’s shoulders, the brunette didn’t shirk away, reasoning with himself that it was dark.

An episode and a half in, Fiona asked Carl to pause it so that she could go upstairs and put Liam to sleep.

“I’ll do it, Fi,” Ian offered, getting up from beside Mickey to pick up his youngest brother. Fiona passed the groggy toddler over to Ian with a thankful smile. Mickey watched his boyfriend go up the stairs slowly, careful not to jostle Liam.

“Sooo…?”

Mickey turned his head to look at Debbie when he realized that the girl’s words were directed at him. He arched an eyebrow up at her.

“‘So’ what?” he asked when she didn’t elaborate.

“Ian’s eighteenth birthday’s in a couple of days…”

It wasn’t news to Mickey, and he wasn’t sure what Debbie was getting at.

“Yeah, and?”

“ _And_ , you’re his boyfriend,” she deadpanned. Mickey bit his lip, fighting his gut reaction to deny any and all homosexual implications. Denying who he was had been a part of his life for so long that it was hard to _not_ contradict her.

“What are you getting him?” she pressed when he didn’t answer her implied question.

Mickey shrugged, because he didn’t think it was such a big deal. He’d been in Juvie during Ian’s last couple of birthdays, and they hadn’t been serious the one before that. “He’s been complaining about not having any good socks. Says they all have holes… so I’ll probably just get him a few pairs.”

“ _Socks?!_ ” they all whisper-yelled incredulously. Even Lip looked horrified.

Fiona shook her head. “Mickey! You can’t get him _socks_ …”

“Why the fuck not? He needs them,” Mickey argued.

“Because they’re so _practical_. It’s his birthday. You have to get him something better.”

“Like what?”

“Get him a gun,” Carl suggested. “Ian loves guns.”

Mickey had about a second to consider it‒he had plenty of nice guns lying around the house, afterall‒before Fiona cut him off mid-thought. “ _No_ guns!” Fiona said, glaring at her brother.

“Fine, a switchblade, then?” Carl countered.

“No blades either!” she huffed out annoyed. Carl opened his mouth to offer another brilliant suggestion but Fiona pointed a finger at him, eyes wide with warning, until he shut his mouth in defeat.

“Right, so no weapons of any kind,” Mickey noted. “What do I get then?”

“How about taking him out to dinner? Somewhere fancy?” Fiona suggested.

Mickey cringed at the thought of having to dress up and go out to a nice restaurant. It was _so_ not his thing.

Lip barked out a laugh. “Yeah right. Can you imagine Mickey Milkovich walking in to Morton's Steakhouse? They won't be able to hide the knives fast enough!”

“You can go fuck yourself,” he said, instinctively flipping Lip off at the same time.

“Maybe a watch?” Debbie offered. Mickey frowned because he knew Ian always wore that bulky GPS watch of his, and didn’t think anything he could afford would be much better.

“I’m not buying him jewelry,” he said instead, not going into the real reason why a watch was not a good solution.

Mickey looked at Lip expectantly, waiting for _his_ suggestion, since he was the only one left who hadn’t given him his two cents. Before Lip could say anything, Ian came rushing down the stairs, jumping over the sofa and into his seat next to Mickey.

“He’s sound asleep,” the redhead informed them. “Let’s finish this ep,” he told them, reading for Mickey’s hand.

Mickey gave him a forced smile when Ian looked at his face, but he couldn’t enjoy the rest of the show; his mind overrun with worry about choosing the perfect gift for his boyfriend.

~ ~ ~

They got back to his house and Mickey waited until Ian was asleep before sneaking out of their room and looking for his sister. She was in her bed, doing something on her phone, and he was grateful that she was alone. He cleared his throat.

“Hey,” Mickey said when she didn’t look up.

Loving as ever, Mandy scowled at him before asking him what the fuck he wanted. She’d been short with him ever since the whole Kenyatta thing, and Mickey knew he should probably tread lightly around her.

“Ian's birthday's on Friday and I don't know what the hell to get him. Do you have any ideas?”

“He's your boyfriend. How the fuck should I know what you should get him?” Mandy shot back.

“Aren't you supposed to be his best friend?”

She shrugged.

“Fine, I'll figure it out myself,” he told her, not having the patience to deal with his sister’s shit.

He walked over to the table in the living room and picked up his pack of smokes. He was about to light one when he noticed the baby sleeping quietly in its bassinet. He hesitated, not wanting to lower the kid’s life expectancy any more than raising him in the South Side already would.

“It no problem,” his wife told him from where she was sitting on the couch in the far corner of the living room, idly flipping through a magazine. Mickey hadn’t even seen her there, the sneaky bitch. “Smoke make lungs strong,” she said, blowing out a billowing cloud of her own.

“What kinda fucked up Russian logic’s that?” he replied with a snort. He flicked his lighter open and lit the cigarette before sitting on the arm of the couch, because if she didn’t give a shit, he figured it would be easy for him not to care either.

“It not you she angry with. Orange boy no talk to her for week,” Svetlana explained.

“How the fuck d’you know that?” Mickey wondered. Ian hadn’t mentioned anything about him and Mandy not being on good terms…

“We talk,” Svetlana answered with a wicked smile.

Once again, Mickey was reminded of the fact that his wife was blatantly interested in his sister. He’d been trying to ignore the constant flirting and pretend that the conversation he and Svetlana had had about her being into chicks hadn’t actually happened, but she wasn’t making it easy.

“Oh, come on! Can you- can you _please_ stay the hell away from my fucking sister? I don’t need to hear about this shit!”

Svetlana shrugged and flashed him another dirty smile before going back to her magazine.

~ ~ ~

It was the morning of Ian’s birthday and Mickey still didn’t have a gift for his boyfriend. He kept thinking he was going to fuck things up. Each time he had an idea, it just wasn’t good enough.

He walked into the Alibi and took a seat at the bar beside Tommy without even sparing a greeting to the regulars.

“Mickey, you looked stressed, buddy. Here, have a drink on the house,” Kev said to him, pouring him a shot of whiskey.

The bartender had been overly nice to Mickey ever since Yevgeny’s Christening. He knew it was because Kev was still afraid of retaliation from Mickey after the whole robbing-him-with-his-own-gun incident, but figured he could enjoy the benefits of being sucked up to until Kev realized Mickey wasn’t going to fuck him up (mainly because of Ian’s begging, but no one else had to know that).

“What’s got _you_ all strung out?” Tommy wondered.

Mickey accepted the whiskey and studied Kev and Tommy thoughtfully. He normally would have told the guys to mind their own fucking business, but it was crunch time. He was all out of ideas, and everyone else he’d talked to had given him shitty fucking advice.

“Need to buy a gift for Gallagher,” he muttered, voice low so as not to allow anyone else besides the two men hear him. “Birthday gift,” he clarified.

The smiles that grew on Tommy and Kev’s respective faces made him regret opening his mouth. He could feel his cheeks getting red as they began to chuckle.

“Gonna get your boyfriend an engagement ring or somethin’?” Tommy teased as Mickey scowled at him.

“How ‘bout some red roses?” Kev supplied with a smirk. “To match his hair…”

Mickey pushed his stool away from the bar angrily. “Fuck you, and fuck you too,” he told them, flipping both men off in the process.

“Aww, relax Mickey. Come back. Sit!” Kev motioned for Mickey to return to his seat. “A birthday gift. We can come up with something, right? Hey, Vee!” he called to his wife who was busy wiping down some tables with a rag. “What should Mickey get Ian for his birthday?”

“Can you keep your fucking voice down?” he whispered angrily, ducking his head.

Veronica walked over to them with an empty pitcher and used glasses. “Hmm, that’s a tough one. What about a bottle of something? Everyone appreciates some top-shelf alcohol,” she suggested.

Mickey thought about it. He definitely knew what Ian liked to drink, but every since the redhead had come out of his low and started taking some meds, he had cut down on the hard liquor because it fucked with things. He threw back the rest of his whiskey, relishing the burn in his throat as he swallowed it, hating himself for not planning anything earlier.

~ ~ ~

Ian texted Mickey while he was at work, asking him to pick up some soda before dinner at the Gallagher house. Mickey would have normally complained about the errand thrown his way, but decided to give Ian a break since it was his birthday. Plus, it wasn’t like he could tell the redhead he might be late because he was still out looking for an appropriate gift…

~ ~ ~

Mickey actually pulled it off, only showing up twenty minutes late to dinner. When he walked up to the kitchen entrance, he could see that everyone was already sitting around the table. Fiona was busy trying to feed Liam in his highchair and Lip was frowning at the mess Carl was making on his plate, while Debbie texted away on her phone. Only Ian was sitting quietly, constantly sneaking glances at the front door.

He felt a tug in his gut because Ian wasn’t looking out of _worry_ that Mickey wouldn’t show up‒he was looking out of _longing_. Mickey knew this because he felt the same exact way whenever he was apart from his boyfriend for too long. He felt like a part of him was missing.

Adjusting his grip on the shopping bag in his hand, Mickey took the last couple of steps at a run. He didn’t bother knocking and just pushed the door open, crashing into the peaceful scene in true Milkovich fashion.

Lip was the first one to acknowledge Mickey’s presence, jabbing Ian in the side with his elbow. “See, Ian? You didn’t have to worry. Should’a known he’d come in through the back…”

_Ian’s birthday. Ian’s birthday. Be nice…_ Mickey repeated to himself in his head, over and over.

He put the 2-Liter of Pepsi onto the table and shrugged off his jacket, then tossed a brown paper bag onto Ian’s lap before taking the empty chair beside the redhead.

“Happy birthday,” he muttered as he sat, not making eye contact with anyone. He busied himself with filling up his plate, not wanting to watch Ian open the gift he’d finally ended up buying. He heard the crinkling of the bag as Ian unrolled the top and stuck his hand in.

Not being able to fight his curiosity any longer, Mickey peeked up to look at Ian’s face, and was rewarded with a huge smile and a kiss on the cheek. Mickey tried not to blush again as Ian’s siblings stared at them in awe and even a little bit of confusion.

“It’s _perfect_ , Mick. How’d you know?” Ian asked, putting the thick bundle of new socks onto the table.

Mickey shrugged his shoulders and tried not to smirk too proudly at the rest of the Gallaghers.

 


End file.
